Bend It Like Bendova (Rocko's Uvula Who?)
by JohnnyLurg
Summary: What if William S. Burroughs was a writer for Rocko's Modern Life?


From the moment Rocko stepped into the Chokey Chicken on a November night, Heffer and Filburt could tell that something was wrong with their mutual friend. His soft-spoken Australian accent had been replaced with a low-pitched, raspy gurgle that was difficult to comprehend. To Rocko's delight, Filburt decided to whip out his shell phone and dial his wife Dr. Hutchison about the wallaby's woes.

"It sounds to me like the boy needs to get his tonsils out," said Hutch cheerily. "Send him over to my office and I'll get him all fixed up in a jiffy, 'kay?"

So after dinner, Rocko got into Filburt's '77 Buick and they set off for the newly named Hutchison Hospital. After 37 stints in various medical fields, Hutch had finally hit the big time performing tonsillectomies and other surgeries, becoming O-Town's highest paid physician and spoiling the chronically unemployed Filburt rotten with a lifetime's supply of fish sticks. And as Rocko sat in the waiting room reading its only Australian magazine, _Playtypus, _he realized that Hutch's great success might make her too busy to have him as a patient.

Indeed, when the doctor's door swung open , Rocko was faced with his old nemesis Dr. Ben Bendova, a rodent who graduated last in his class of 1,138 at O-Town Medical School and was currently taking a quick nip of orange juice and gin from a flask normally used for urine samples. "Well, if it isn't that crazy old patient of mine, Rolo! Come on in and take a seat." Rocko followed Dr. Bendova to an uncomfortable plastic chair.

"So, what ails you, Rod? Don't finish that sentence, I already know. Tonsillitis it is, then." Dr. Bendova stretched a frayed vinyl glove onto his matted violet palm and began hurriedly sifting through three years' worth of clutter in his medical cabinet for a pair of unsterilized zircon-encrusted tweezers.

"I think you should sterilize those, Ben. Hand me your lighter," said a Midwestern female voice and Rocko turned his aching head to face Dr. Hutchison. "It's for the own personal safety of the client."

"Out, damned cat!" roared Dr. Bendova, chugging his gin angrily. "You dare question my medical credentials when I'm with a patient? I ought to give you another hook where that one came from! Now, begone!"

"Sorry, Rocko, but as Ben is my partner in this practice, I must respect his wishes," said Hutch and slid back into her cozy office. The taste of betrayal seemed rich in Rocko's throat, until he realized that was just his infected tonsils.

"Open your mouth, dog," snapped Dr. Bendova, and Rocko complied as the sadistic doctor took out his tweezers and a nearby scalpel with which he began cutting away the roof of Rocko's mouth. "There, that's roomy." He then snipped away at each and every one of the wallaby's tonsils, finishing the job with a quick and painful incision in between.

"Knock knock!" Dr. Bendova said, laughingly.

"'Oo' 'ere?" responded Rocko, mouth ajar with pints of blood leaking from every corner of it.

"Rocko's uvula!" the doctor exclaimed, proceeding to force his callused, filthy hands and tweezers out of his patient's wretched maw.

"Aw-oh oo-oo-uh oo?" Rocko screamed in terror when the doctor placed before his eyes the obscure body part which once dangled like a pendulum between Rocko's tonsils, all of which were now gone forever.

"Hutchison, get me my anesthesia!" yelled Dr. Bendova, like a bratty schoolboy to his overindulgent mother.

"Ben, I'm busy with another patient," said Hutch. "Please get it yourself, 'kay?"

Dr. Bendova began grumbling and cursing Hutch in ways which would undoubtedly cause Filburt to break from his timidness had he been present. "No anesthesia, much pain!" he snickered and turned on a drill the size of Rocko's head. In less than a minute, a man who never attended dental school had extracted each and every one of Rocko's teeth. Even Rocko's wisdom teeth, which had only started growing a month prior, had been yanked out the best Dr. Bendova could.

"Now is time to hit the bars," laughed Dr. Bendova. "Friday night is pint night, and I'm not going to stop until I'm as blacked out as you would be if your little kitty friend had been nice enough to give me my anesthesia! _Sayonara_, Rizzo!"

After Dr. Bendova departed, the aching Rocko got out of his chair to knock on Dr. Hutchison's door. Just then, Hutch's patient revealed herself to be Bev Bighead, Rocko's neighbor, who had received a generously sized set of silicone breast implants.

"Oh, hiya, Rocko, hope these big boys didn't scare you away," said Bev, jiggling her chest flirtatiously as she strode across the waiting room in hopes of impressing her husband Ed, who instead continued ogling _Playtoad _magazine with no acknowledgment of other peoples' presences in the medical facility.

"Rocko," said Hutch, "I'm sorry my busy schedule kept you from receiving adequate help. As an apology for this inconvenience, I want to give you this package." Though his compulsively chewed nails made it a struggle, Rocko successful tore open Hutch's small cardboard package, revealing a set of dentures and a prosthetic uvula. He wondered what had happened to his real uvula, fearing that Dr. Bendova was currently using it to stir his drinks at O-Town's taverns. "Take care, Rocko, 'kay?" Dr. Hutchison shut the door, sending Rocko on his way out.

"Uvulectomy day is a very dangerous day," said Rocko after applying his prosthetics, and called up Heffer to drive him back home and explain his bizarre predicament.


End file.
